Life May Be Fleeting
by snowflakeswift
Summary: An Enjolras/Eponine fan fiction, in which Enjolras discovers that sometimes, love comes too late. Includes references to Les Miserables as well as Andrew Lloyd Webber's play Love Never Dies. I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS, MUCH AS I WISH I DID. Based on wouldtheywriteasongforyou's Aries prompt.


Enjolras felt sleep tugging at him, pulling him down into soft white sands. He resisted the urge to give in. He could not go to sleep.

"Monsieur Enjolras?" Eponine's voice startled him out of a doze, and he awoke, rubbing his eyes. "Do you want me to take the watch for now?"

"Yes, that would be nice," said Enjolras. He moved away from his post atop the monstrous pile of furniture and let Eponine take it. He leant against a tabletop and closed his eyes, but sleep had deserted him. Instead, Enjolras focused on Eponine.

From the moment Marius had brought Eponine into the ABC Café, she had been unhappy. Enjolras could see in her eyes that she was mistreated and abused. When they built the barricade, though, Enjolras felt her unhappiness dissolve. The hurt in her eyes was replaced with pride and confidence, and the change was a good one. She'd always been slender, but now her figure radiated sureness, her eyes sparkled, and she moved with grace that arose from happiness. She was beautiful, a diamond that came from pressure and roughness.

"Eponine," said Enjolras.

Eponine turned, slightly surprised. "What do you want, Monsieur?"

Enjolras smiled. "For one thing, stop calling me Monsieur and start calling me Enjolras."

"That can be very easily managed, Enjolras," Eponine informed him.

"For another," continued Enjolras, "I want to thank you."

"Thank me?" asked Eponine.

Enjolras came closer to Eponine and hugged her, causing her to gasp in surprise. "Thank you for being a good friend, 'Ponine, and helping us with the barricade," he said softly.

Her shock did not last long. "You're welcome, Enjolras," she smiled, hugging him back. She had probably never been hugged before in her whole life. Neither, for that matter, had anyone except Eponine dared to hug him.

And in that moment, Enjolras felt something stir in his marble heart, that heart that had never been touched before. He dropped off to sleep.

"Enjolras!" cried Eponine, pushing his shoulder. "Enjolras! They're coming!" She slid down the slippery pile and landed at the bottom. "Everyone! They're coming!"

Enjolras jolted awake and fumbled for his gun. He found it. "Wake up!" he yelled. "Enemy!"

There was a tumult of action below as everyone reached for guns. They found them and got to their posts.

"Hold!" ordered Enjolras. He studied the ranks of red-coated soldiers before them. The soldiers raised their muskets.

"Fire!" screamed Enjolras. He was dimly aware of a volley of gunshots sounding. He could see a few redcoats toppling to the ground like rag dolls. The captain of the soldiers shouted, "Fire!"

Another volley of gunshots sounded. Enjolras looked around. His army was still complete, their guns loaded. He could see Eponine scrambling to his side with a gun she picked up from God knows where.

"Eponine! Get down!" he hissed through clenched teeth. "Aim—fire!" he cried to the rest of the army. Eponine's gun sounded along with the rest.

"Eponine! Go away! You could be killed!" he hissed.

"If I get killed, I die fighting," said Eponine with grim determination.

Enjolras felt a smile on his lips. That was unusual. Enjolras never smiled. "That's the spirit!" he yelled. "Fight!"

The turmoil began. Enjolras put his whole soul into the bullets that he fired, but as shot after shot hit its mark, he was always aware of Eponine beside him, hair flying, heart pounding, and he finally felt that his life had begun.

That was when time stopped. A shot whistled by. Enjolras could see it heading straight towards his heart. He could see his life flying before his eyes. He was frozen, unable to move.

Then time began flowing again. Eponine was lying on her side, perched precariously on top of a teetering table.

"Eponine!" Enjolras screamed. He waded through chairs, table legs, and wardrobes, and picked her up. Holding her, he rolled down the barricade, breathing heavily. Her body fit perfectly in his arms.

The gunshots died down. "Enjolras, the soldiers—" Courfeyrac stopped abruptly upon seeing Eponine. A red blossom was unfolding its deadly petals in her side. Enjolras had raised them both to a sitting position.

"Eponine, Eponine, please wake up!" cried Enjolras, rocking her back and forth. To Courfeyrac he cried, "Go, get Joly, do something!" Courfeyrac disappeared.

Eponine's eyelids fluttered open. "Enjolras," she breathed.

"Eponine, are you all right?" said Enjolras hurriedly. "Oh, God, it's everywhere!" He raised his hand, which was drenched in blood.

Eponine smiled weakly. "Don't worry," she told him. "I don't feel any pain. You were lucky you got away."

"No, Eponine, I was not," Enjolras said, his voice cracked and heavy with despair. "Eponine, now there isn't any time. I want to tell you that you made me feel more joy than I have ever known.

The blossom was almost in full bloom. "Enjolras—come closer, I beg you."

Enjolras hurried to hold her closer, the petals of the blossom staining his shirt.

"Closer still," whispered Eponine. "Enjolras, kiss me once, please."

Enjolras brought her lips to his own. She tasted of something he could not quite fathom—a divine happiness, true love. He knew with a fiery, passionate-as-sin finality that his first kiss would be his last one.

"I love you," he whispered. It could not be true that these words were coming out of his, Enjolras', mouth.

"Remember—love never dies," Eponine said, bringing her hand to his chest with the last of her strength.

He gazed into her eyes, determined that he would be the last thing she saw. He felt her life seeping away, soaring into the sky, just another cloud among a multitude, yet the most beautiful of them all.


End file.
